MAFS is Back

 "Now, Pandas, don't tell me you're going to be watching Married at First Sight again?" whine Barney over a text.

Barney doesn't like MAFS. Barney thin MAFS is rubbish. 

Barney is probably right. 

My rebuttal came swiftly.

"Barney. I live alone. It is my television! I will watch what I bloody well like."

There! That told him. 

MAFS is my guilty pleasure. My one bit of reality television that I watch religiously, more as a psychological and sociological experiment than anything else. 

It's so bad, it's good.  

I mean, where else do you get to see these things on your screen?

Veneers

Lip fillers

Fake Boobs

Tattoos

Sure, all of these things are a personal choice, and if people want to spend money on these things, good for them. 

Throw in the narcissistic personality disorders, the traumatised, undiagnosed neurodiverse, the little princesses, the men who are too close to their mothers.... and what do you have?

Oh yeah, him. What's the bet he smells like tuna?

Anyway, I worked late tonight, and MAFS was my little reward. 

Ah the drama. 

We all have our quirks. MAFS is mine. 

And that's all that needs to be said. 

Today's song: